The snow dove sits, unhappy and blue
Sad as fate, inert like a statue
There was no freedom in fate she thought,
Only loneliness and desolation it brought
A way out of hell she thought
Somehow these demons could be fought!
And then an idea struck her mind
How she would leave these demons behind
How she would spread her wings and fly
Free as the diamond, is free from the alloy
She would sing and chant her heart out
It would grant her freedom, no doubt!

Obey the Revealed.
Guiding Hand; Dove with a Branch.
Mystery no more.

Hot sour liquids
Roll from my eyes
Taking turns
As they roll
On my flooded cheek
Matthew,
Your dark and shine boy
Will not see you again
As you ply the world beyond
I miss the dove in you

Windy sunny funny days in hurry
In my home I dine and slept in merry
One day from blue landed on my terrace
Lonely dove came ill and still to scare us.

Not a vet to consult in this dark time
Like a drunkard tripping falling at times
When I lend my helping hand for his lift
Angry murmur heard I while he makeshift.

Like a waiter waited with his grand food
Not a stir or happy face my guest stood
No grain no drink he made for four long days
Little dove saint kept on barring my prays.

Prying peeping praying for his prime life
Hearing, stretching wings he fly heaven safe.

Breakings
by Michael R. Burch

I did it out of pity.
I did it out of love.
I did it not to break the heart of a tender, wounded dove.

But gods without compassion
ordained: "Frail things must break!"
Now what can I do for her shattered psyche’s sake?

I did it not to push.
I did it not to shove.
I did it to assist the flight of indiscriminate Love.

But gods, all mad as hatters,
who legislate in all such matters,
ordained that everything irreplaceable shatters.

Keywords/Tags: Love, compassion, pity, heart, break, tender, wounded, dove, gods, command, mad, hatters, legislate, sorrow, destruction